


You're My Best Friend

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Series: Fic Prompts - Broadchurch [4]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Career Day, F/M, First Kiss, Good Omens References, Queen lyrics, Song: You're My Best Friend (Queen), classroom visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: (Ooh, you make me live, now honey!)Fred has asked Hardy to give a presentation to his class about his work.  Long-simmering sparks finally catch flame in the process.





	You're My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt: “You are aware that walls aren’t people, right?”

Ellie trudged up the path to Hardy’s with a yawn, thinking of the lovely dream from which her alarm had thrown her.  The specifics were fuzzy now, but she had a vague, calming sense of… _peace_.  Of being on vacation with someone she loved, of no responsibilities other than choosing where to go for meals.

A stark contrast to the chaos getting the boys up for school had been; she’d ultimately had to leave them to her father’s care to make it to Hardy’s on time.

She was so lost in her thoughts that it wasn’t until she was on the patio she realized that the sliding glass door was open, and what was more, Hardy was talking.

 _How could he already know I’m here?_ she wondered, only to reach the doorway and find him with his back to her, speaking to an empty room.  He was already dressed, ready to go but for his suit jacket, and stood with one hand on his hip, the other in front of him where he could peer down at the writing.

It was a pose she was greatly familiar with, though usually a room full of detectives stared back at him, rather than his furniture.

“Who can tell me what the most important job is, for police?”

Ellie leaned silently against the door frame, watching him watch the empty room.

“You _are_ aware that walls aren’t people, right?” she finally commented, when he didn’t continue.  “They can’t actually answer.”

“Ellie!”  Hardy spun around, eyes widening as he caught sight of her.  “Bloody- is it already seven?  Sorry, just a moment.”  He folded the paper up and tucked it away, shrugging on his jacket and hurrying to the desk for his briefcase.  “Can you…” he asked vaguely, waving towards the kitchen, and she fetched the two prepared travel thermoses full of tea, pausing to remove the lid from ‘hers’ and take a few, greedy gulps, sighing softly as even just the smell of the caffeine started to work on her.

“Let’s go,” he barked, gesturing her towards the door with his trademark impatient scowl, and she moved, rolling her eyes and replacing the lid.

“All right, all right, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Ellie sighed, eyeing him speculatively as he locked the door and they started back down to her car.  “Can I ask-”

“ _No._ ”

* * *

They traveled an hour out of town towards Bristol for what turned out to be a five minute interview.  Back in the car and on the way back to town, Hardy spent rather longer than usual complaining about the wasted time.

“All I’m saying is-”

“What were you doing?” Ellie interrupted around minute twenty-three, unable to take another second of his bitching.

“What?”

She took her eyes off the road long enough to give him her best _don’t be thick with me_ glare – bringing the day’s total up to every significant male in her life.   _And it’s only half eight._  “What were you doing when I found you at your house?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if you’ve gone barmy.  Honestly, why were you asking your _walls_ what our most important job is?”

Hardy grumbled for a moment, sinking deeper in his seat, but she waited him out.  “I was practicing,” he finally said quietly.

“Practicing?”

“For tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”  Ellie ran quickly through their upcoming work events, and came up with nothing other than a few budget meetings and a semi-annual sexual harassment seminar where she would have to listen for _days_ afterwards as he ranted about _stupid people unable to keep their hands to themselves_.  “What’s tomorrow?”

His exasperated gaze burned a hole in the side of her head, making her flush.  “The thing, tomorrow,” he said vaguely.  “For Fred’s class.”

“ _What?_ ”  She nearly slammed on the breaks in surprise, just managing to keep the car under control.  “What thing for Fred’s class?  What are you talking about?!”

“You don’t know?”  Hardy sounded surprised, but she barely noticed, frantically trying to recall anything related to _Hardy, Fred,_ or _Fred’s class_.  “Sorry, Miller, I thought you did.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie said through gritted teeth, failing miserably at keeping the hurt feelings away.  “Explain.   _Now_.”

He shifted next to her, running his fingers through his hair as he spoke carefully.  “Last week, when Fred came to visit you at lunch, he wanted to talk to me, remember?”

He waited for her to nod, which she did, only vaguely remembering the instance.  For reasons unknown to her, her younger son had taken a shining to her partner, and found him absolutely hilarious.

“Anyway, what he wanted was… his class is doing a career day, and he’s asked me to come in and speak.  I was practicing my spiel when you arrived this morning.”

A lay-by was only a few yards ahead and she pulled in hard, having to stop and put the car into park before closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on the wheel, fighting back nausea and horror.   _Why didn’t he ask me?_ her heart cried, aching, as she tried not to cry in front of Hardy.   _Why didn’t he want_ me _?_

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hardy said softly, soothingly, resting his palm between her shoulder blades.  He didn’t rub, let his hand just sit there, but it helped to anchor her.  “He couldn’t ask a family member, Miller, otherwise he’d have asked you – he told me so.  It’s all right.”

“What?”  To her horror she sniffled, but he didn’t comment except to hand her an honest-to-God handkerchief.

“He wanted to ask you but it couldn’t be a relative,” he repeated.  “I don’t know why he didn’t tell you about it at all, but that’s why he didn’t ask.”

Ellie chanced a peek at him, only to find the most caring, sympathetic expression she’d ever seen on him – possibly even more so than _It was Joe._  “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped without heat, pressing her lips tightly together.

“Sorry.”  His expression didn’t change, though he removed his hand, and she gave an involuntary moue of regret at the loss of the warm touch.

“Not your fault, I suppose.”

“That’s a change.”  His lips twitched, and she reluctantly smiled back.

Clearing her throat she straightened up, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to ease some tension there.  “Erm, sorry about…” she gestured, leaving the sentence unfinished, but as always, he knew what she meant.

“S’all right.  D’you want me to drive back?”

Ellie gave two slow blinks in surprise, jaw dropping.  “That’s the first time you’ve ever offered that!”

“Well?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” she scoffed, putting the car in drive and checking her mirrors.  “The day I let you drive will be the day the world ends.”

She pulled out, snickering, and after a moment, Hardy groaned.  “I told you, I have no relation to that bloody actor,” he insisted, as he had often had to do.  “Besides, you’re hardly driving a Bentley.”

“I note you’re not denying being a demon,” Ellie teased, but he only huffed, crossing his arms and sitting back.

To keep from getting lost in her thoughts she turned on the radio, and it only took two notes to recognize the song.  For the second time in fifteen minutes she nearly crashed the car, this time because of laughter, but managed to keep control and sing along with the music.

” _Oooh, you make me live, now, honey!”_

The rest of the ride back to Broadchurch, Hardy sulked.

* * *

At half-nine the next morning, he stopped at her desk and crossed his arms.

“D’you need something?” Ellie asked without looking up from the training video she was watching.

“Time to go.”

“Go where?”

Hardy sighed heavily.  “Please, can we not do twenty fucking questions _again_?  Won’t I get plenty of that soon enough?”

“Oh.  Oh!  Erm, have a good time, then,” she paused the video to smile up politely at him, wondering if he could see the dark circles under her eyes, would know that she’d cried herself to sleep the previous evening.

He nodded but didn’t move, just staring at her expectantly.

She stared back, raising her eyebrows.  “Did you need something?”

“Time to go,” he repeated, giving his trademark _woe is me_ heavy sigh when she didn’t move.  “C’mon, shake a leg.”

“Why am I going?” Ellie asked stiffly, wondering if he was being deliberately cruel.  It wasn’t like him, though she knew if they polled the entire office, she would be the only one to think he didn’t have a cruel, nasty bone in his body.  At least, not for anyone other than murderers and the like.  Even then, it was more about justice for victims than hatred for criminals.

“You’re my partner.”  Hardy said it so matter-of-factly, with a casual shrug, that a little bit of the pain her heart eased.  “I can’t talk about my job without you – you’re half of it.”

The balloon of her hurt popped like that, deflating, and she couldn’t help a smile.  “Well, if you insist.”

* * *

A half-dozen other family friends of Fred’s classmates had been pressed into presenting as well, but Ellie was the only guest, and stood at the back of the classroom watching.

It had been gratifying when she walked in and Fred all but tackled her, shrieking with glee to see her, and she smiled even wider to see his greeting to Hardy had been significantly tamer, though still more enthusiastic than he was at others, taking him by the hand and tugging him to the front of the room.

She’d had a vague idea before, but now, watching him interact with a classroom full of six-year-olds, it was clear that Hardy was a natural with children.  He talked with them, not at them, keeping them engaged for the entire ten-minute presentation.  Despite the heaviness of the crimes they typically investigated in CID he kept it relevant and age-appropriate, and the kids _loved_ it, shouting out questions and answers to the point where the teacher and other guest presenters looked fairly irritated.

Eventually he was cut off, returning to the back of the room to stand next to Ellie and watch the next guest drone on about insurance.

“You did well,” Ellie murmured, earning a pleased, hopeful smile from him.

“D’you really think so?  I mean, I would certainly hope.  I don’t want to embarrass him,” he whispered back, glancing around, and she had to grin at how many of the children smiled at him and he waved back.

In an uncharacteristic show of affection given that their relationship was built on insults and distance, she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “Really.”  Ellie smiled up at him, seeming to short-circuit his brain – his expression froze before going soft and thoughtful.

It wasn’t until they walked out of the school that she realized they were still holding hands, when they had to let go to get into the car.

“So, back to the office?”

Hardy cocked his head, surprising her with, “Why don’t we get lunch first?”

* * *

They ended up at a little roadside café, taking a few minutes first to stare at the menu.

Once ordered, though, Ellie felt a weird vibe, inexplicably nervous.   _It’s just Hardy_ , she reminded herself sternly, but the butterflies in her gut refused to leave.

“So-” they started at the same time, laughing softly as the tension seemingly broke.

“Go ahead,” Hardy encouraged, folding his arms on the tabletop and leaning forward.

She grinned back, matching his posture.  “I was just going to say, you did very well.  The kids loved you, though none more than Fred.”  Her son had looked positively enamored, and she was looking forward to his recap that night at home.

“I enjoyed it.”  His tone said he was surprised, a wistful quality to it she didn’t immediately understand.  “I had to do the same for Daisy, once, when she was… oh, a wee bit older than he is.  Her classmates seemed to enjoy my presentation, but Daisy…” he trailed off, staring down at his hands, an old sadness clear on his face.  “She was embarrassed, said I didn’t do it right.  That I’d made her the laughingstock of the class.  Tess, she went to the presentation too but didn’t speak, agreed.  They both thought I was shit.”

Ellie’s heart broke for him.  She was brutally aware of what it felt like to be rejected by your child, and once again felt anger at Tess on his behalf.  “I’m sorry.  Is that why you were so nervous?”  Unthinkingly she reached out her hand, putting it halfway across the table, surprised when he settled his on top.

“Yeah.”  After a moment he rallied, looking up again and smiling.  “Never mind, all in the past.  But, really, I’m pleased he was satisfied.”

“Well, _I_ was certainly was happy,” she teased, trying to concentrate through the warmth of his hand on hers.  “You said some awfully nice things about your partner – she sounds great.”

Hardy kept looking at her, the heat of his gaze almost enough to make her uncomfortable.  “She’s one of the best detectives I’ve ever met,” he said truthfully.

Ellie’s eyes widened, cheeks burning, and she dropped her eyes to stare at the tabletop.  “Don’t exaggerate,” she mumbled.

“It’s true.  She’s also the best friend that I’ve ever had.”

Unbidden, the lyrics to the song from yesterday flashed through her mind – on the surface it was a nice song about friendship, though one only had to listen to the lyrics to realize it was a love song.

_Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine and I want you to know/That my feelings are true/I really love you/Oh, you're my best friend_

Peeking up at him from below her lashes, she found him watching her, a strange peace on his face.  Like that her nerves disappeared, and for the first time since Joe’s arrest, she had a clear vision of her future, of what she wanted life to look like.

“You help restore my faith,” she said softly, tentatively, “whenever this world is cruel to me.”

Hardy’s expression lit like the sun, a dazzling smile appearing, and she waited with bated breath to see if her message was received, and possibly, maybe returned.

“I know I’ve gone off and left a couple times now,” he replied slowly, hand pressing hers into the table, “but I seem to keep coming back to you.”

For the second time in as many days tears pricked at her eyes, though this time, they were of happiness.

“You’re my best friend.”

It was awkward, with the table between them, but they managed to meet in the middle and share a sweet kiss, one that promised many more.

_Ooh, you make me live._


End file.
